Noctis Lucis Caelum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kittycaterer) wrote2018-01-28 08:15 pm
kittycaterer) wrote2018-01-28 08:15 pm
Nowhere to run from all this havoc
[ "I'm just not feeling all that great..."
That had been the last thing he'd said to his Academic Advisor at school. He'd essentially flunked every single exam at the end of the semester. All four of them. Studying was fruitless, getting out of bed was painful. Noctis couldn't recall feeling this awful in years, yet here he was, showing the same signs and symptoms that baffled doctors since he was eight.
He goes home with a warning.
For days now, he's been coughing like a smoker. Nothing coming out; just wet, heavy coughs that brought no relief and left him up for hours in the night. Fits so hard he'd vomit. It's day three, and the headaches have set in. Pounding, disorienting migraines bad enough to throw off his vision and leave him weak to sunlight. The medicine doesn't work, but he hopes that maybe some sort of placebo effect will kick in.
Noctis keeps his lights dim. He'd turn them off entirely were it not for how dark the apartment gets at night. He's exhausted, worn down from hardly any sleep, and as Noctis stands in his bedroom fussing with pills, he feels the world start to lurch beneath him.
It's not the exhaustion. ]
Ghh--
[ Pang.
A pounding throb in his head happens once. Twice. The pressure builds behind his eyes and without his skull, spreading throughout his entirety. Something pulls at his consciousness.
--Anointed by the Crystal. ]
Damn it.
[ Not again. He's heard that before. The tail end of a sentence that makes no sense. It triggers a broken memory of white walls and blinding light through large windows.
Why is this happening now? Why is he thinking about this now?
Noctis' hands start to shake, the rest of him becoming tense. His lungs feel as if they're caving in on themselves, stuck together. He tries to fuss with the pill bottle of pain killers and it rattles loud enough to make him angry.
Only at the throne...
He drops the pill bottle. It falls open, white capsules strewn about the floor like pebbles. The room begins to spin and he starts to hack again, desperate to clear his throat when he feels like it's closing shut. The voice is sweet, young, it brings a strange whiff of something floral before he starts to smell something burning.
--the Chosen receive it, and only at the cost of a life: his own.
The words become clearer, the voice shifting to something gravely and dark. The shocks of pain become worse and he can feel each throb in his veins. It feels as if the building is seized by an earthquake, and he falls forward with a loud crack. He hits his head, his vision blurs. Noctis tries to find something to grab to pull himself up, but his depth perception is flawed and he suddenly can't move.
No.
No, he can move just. Not in a way he chooses. Noctis starts to hear a myriad of voices, creating a disgusting amalgamation of babbling that makes no sense. His heart is pounding out of his chest, he can't breathe.
His phone, where's his phone? Where's his fucking phone?!
Noctis reaches out his arm, tries to see if he can reach something. It's then that he realizes his reach is flawed because his body has started shaking, and it's then that his vision goes black. The chord to the lamp of his side-table is forced to crash on the floor when the convulsions kick in, where they cause his arm to fling and catch on the long string until it falls with a shatter.
The lights go out.
And then it's dark. ]
That had been the last thing he'd said to his Academic Advisor at school. He'd essentially flunked every single exam at the end of the semester. All four of them. Studying was fruitless, getting out of bed was painful. Noctis couldn't recall feeling this awful in years, yet here he was, showing the same signs and symptoms that baffled doctors since he was eight.
He goes home with a warning.
For days now, he's been coughing like a smoker. Nothing coming out; just wet, heavy coughs that brought no relief and left him up for hours in the night. Fits so hard he'd vomit. It's day three, and the headaches have set in. Pounding, disorienting migraines bad enough to throw off his vision and leave him weak to sunlight. The medicine doesn't work, but he hopes that maybe some sort of placebo effect will kick in.
Noctis keeps his lights dim. He'd turn them off entirely were it not for how dark the apartment gets at night. He's exhausted, worn down from hardly any sleep, and as Noctis stands in his bedroom fussing with pills, he feels the world start to lurch beneath him.
It's not the exhaustion. ]
Ghh--
[ Pang.
A pounding throb in his head happens once. Twice. The pressure builds behind his eyes and without his skull, spreading throughout his entirety. Something pulls at his consciousness.
--Anointed by the Crystal. ]
Damn it.
[ Not again. He's heard that before. The tail end of a sentence that makes no sense. It triggers a broken memory of white walls and blinding light through large windows.
Why is this happening now? Why is he thinking about this now?
Noctis' hands start to shake, the rest of him becoming tense. His lungs feel as if they're caving in on themselves, stuck together. He tries to fuss with the pill bottle of pain killers and it rattles loud enough to make him angry.
Only at the throne...
He drops the pill bottle. It falls open, white capsules strewn about the floor like pebbles. The room begins to spin and he starts to hack again, desperate to clear his throat when he feels like it's closing shut. The voice is sweet, young, it brings a strange whiff of something floral before he starts to smell something burning.
--the Chosen receive it, and only at the cost of a life: his own.
The words become clearer, the voice shifting to something gravely and dark. The shocks of pain become worse and he can feel each throb in his veins. It feels as if the building is seized by an earthquake, and he falls forward with a loud crack. He hits his head, his vision blurs. Noctis tries to find something to grab to pull himself up, but his depth perception is flawed and he suddenly can't move.
No.
No, he can move just. Not in a way he chooses. Noctis starts to hear a myriad of voices, creating a disgusting amalgamation of babbling that makes no sense. His heart is pounding out of his chest, he can't breathe.
His phone, where's his phone? Where's his fucking phone?!
Noctis reaches out his arm, tries to see if he can reach something. It's then that he realizes his reach is flawed because his body has started shaking, and it's then that his vision goes black. The chord to the lamp of his side-table is forced to crash on the floor when the convulsions kick in, where they cause his arm to fling and catch on the long string until it falls with a shatter.
The lights go out.
And then it's dark. ]